final gambit
by the birds were flown
Summary: He was one too fun, too young to fall to pieces. And I spoke melted words that fit the indie summer. He lived recklessly in debt, and all I needed was the taste of freedom that only an outlaw like him could ever offer. natsu!lucy. au.
_final gambit_
 **welcome to fairy tail**

 **Summary:** He was one too fun, too young to fall to pieces. And I spoke melted words that fit the indie summer. He lived recklessly in debt, and all I needed was the taste of freedom that only an outlaw like him could ever offer.

 **Prompt:** A series of summer songs, a trip back to my Peter Pan roots, and the unblinking lights of New York City.

 **Disclaimer:** _Fairy Tail_ is owned by Mashima Hiro, I only write in tribute to his wonderful work.

* * *

It had been a long day for me. I worked my ass off covering a story about a man, a woman and some fraud lawyer that handled their divorce papers. I was never one to complain about my job, or my career, or my life in general, but when you've gone through ten different subway routes, been across the Brooklyn Bridge thrice, and circled around the crazed center of the well named New York City—you better believe _I was not happy_. I've travelled so much that day, laying in a fetal position right by my bus stop seemed pretty tempting to me.

It was close to two am, only buses left on the narrow streetway to my dingy apartment. I wouldn't say I was poor, just not one of the lucky ones. Everyone's always said all opportunities taken in the city that never sleeps were golden, and life would be so much easier once I got there. Well heck, there I was, still struggling daily, trying to find what I really wanted, and what I really needed.

The night was the first night I'd taken the bus so late, or early—whichever way you looked at it. All passengers present had been strange that particular ride home. One old lady nodded off every once in a while, sometimes she'd even stop breathing. I wondered if she were dead, but she darted herself up two seconds later and all curious thoughts went flying out my head. Then the cycle would restart. Another is a man of mid-fourties. I supposed he was handsome with a shady quality in his shadowed stubble, eyes covered in a beige bowler hat. He was sat right at the very end, just behind the driver, a briefcase in one hand and the other laid on top of his right kneecap. He seemed to be asleep, but I could never be too sure. Last was a boy, about my age, blonde and rough features, with blue eyes I could barely make out. He wore tight long sleeves that even I felt suffocated just looking at him, and his ears were pierced and decorated with twenty different rings, all gold and crystals, no second rate silver. My guess would've been he was either a rich boy on the edge of rebellion, or a lost soul involved in some gang activities. I did not dwell on it too much, feared that if I pried, even with just my thoughts, I'd find myself in trouble. Instead I sat and silently thanked God that I was only two stops away before I could run to the comfort of my home and far from these strangers who, may have been nice people, but I had been too scared to chance it.

Suddenly the bus stopped, stranded in the middle of the crossroad towards up north to the city center, and a lonely street turn that lead to dark alleyways and stray cats. I felt a nervous knot caught in my heart, and my lungs blocked with palpitating breaths. There were no bus stops, so I wondered what the sudden halt had been about. Bowler hat guy stood up and gave a small salute to the driver, took his briefcase with him as he walked out the bus, 'round to the next corner were stop lights flickered red and green as if confused by the sudden presence of civilization. The blonde stood and followed, and I had to bite my bottom lip so hard I tasted clear cut metal, just to stop the anxious thundering of my beating heart.

Just when I thought it was all over, a man— _boy_ , and a tall one at that—came in breathless through the door. He was quite charming, with a grin that screamed too fun, too young to fall to pieces. His eyes were dark, obsidian in the streetlights and white wash of the dull bus bulb. He wore a suit, but scarved himself in white reptile scales that tangled with the starlight breeze. He raised a hand, gestured stop to the driver, before he shined again with that same old grin, and barged his way into the seat right beside me. And with that, the bus engine ran, and the wheels glided fast against the gloss of the New York City road, headed straight for the next stop, the one before the last before my own.

The man— _boy_ ; I liked to think, since I never really knew which one he was with such a cheerful grin that you'd mistake for someone so young—sat still beside me, his heavy breathing the only sound that pierced through the silence between us. His head was thrown back, laid down on the bus seat's back, his lids closed and his lips gone from the earlier grin to a tired frown. I shuffled in my seat, unsure of what to do. All I knew was salmon pastel snoring away beside me, and the faded orange of street lamps that passed us by. The elderly woman was now sharply awake behind us, her eyes darted between me and my companion. The bus came to a sudden halt at the next stop, plunged scarf boy beside me forward to the back of the seat in front of him. Startled awake, he looked around and tried to make sense of what was going on. I almost snorted at his confused and lazy eyes.

"Everyone, get off the bus."

The driver called and snapped me out of my amusement. The old lady stood up and shakily made her way to the front whilst I stood with flaring brown eyes, furious at what I had just heard. Surely he could not be serious, there was one more stop— _my stop_ —left. I was about stand up and protest, my teeth bared and ready for a tantrum – one I was known for in my work circle, of course – when scarf boy beside me held his arm up, his eyes twinkled with unfiltered misfit. He held a finger to his light rosy lips, grin all fun and young once again. He gestured for me to stand up and I obediently followed, very unsure of why I did.

"Thanks."

Scarf boy greeted the driver, who answered back with a simple nod. I followed him, reckless in my thoughts, as he swerved pass the stop and made his way lightly to a corner turn.

"I didn't know they would send me a girl for the auction."

Yeah I didn't ei—wait what?! Did he just say _auction_?!

"The games tonight are sure going to be interesting."

"Excuse me?" I stopped dead in my tracks, just behind him, my ankles covered in goosebumps as rats began to sniff around my open-toed work heels. "What do you mean _auction_?!"

He turned to look at me, an eyebrow up as if amused by my sudden outburst. I felt a nerve pulsing on my forehead, and I was just about ready smack the answer out of him. However, when he did decide to speak, he was cut off. His mouth had been open, ready to respond, when loud music blared against the concrete walls of those buildings beside our small and dirty alleyway.

"Sorry blondie, but there's no time to chat, let's go!"

Rough like the misfit in his eyes, his hand wrapped itself around my wrist and dragged me freely towards the end of that long alleyway. I was too busy gaping at him to even voice any protests my heart hammered against my chest. By some miracle, I didn't trip running with five inch high heels across murky puddles of what I assumed and hoped to be water, flattened trash cans and sewer rats that managed to find their way to the surface. It may had been the boy I was with that made that all possible, because I swore I was clumsy ditz, and even more so with those heels, but my browns eyed his running back, and I could swear to God I saw him fly.

He turned sharp left into the last corner, under rusty fire escapes and mossy bricked walls. Then another few long runs, before he finally stopped in front of a small metal door with a slider near the center top. Evidently, the loud music had been emitting from said door. Scarf boy knocked impatiently, his foot tapped against the rubble and concrete ground. The slider opens to reveal sharp and pointed blue eyes.

"Yes?"

The voice spoke, rough with a delicate tendency in the baritone.

"Hey buddy, mind letting us in?"

Scarf boy speaks, his ever present grin cheerful despite the lack of lighting, and his eyes excitedly looked up at the door slider.

"Do fairies have tails?

I wondered if it was some kind of password, as scarf boy tipped himself on his toes and whispered words I barely heard – something to do with fairies and existing. The answer seemed correct for there was a grunt heard from the other side, and the metal doors were clanked wide open. I didn't even get a chance to soak in all that was inside for I was already gripped and dragged into the mess of the world with flashing lights, smell of rust and alcohol, and the electronic beat of indie that surrounded us.

"Wait here!"

Scarf boy attempted to call out to me, but all fell into deaf ears as I finally stopped to look around. The first I saw were the endless rows of old and bright slot machines with alluring neon colors that beckoned to be used. Across were green tables of cards, chips and dices, and even ones with spinning roulettes. At the edge were ledges with cups and cups, filled with god knows what, with people eagerly throwing balls into them. And just right at the very far right corner, a small bar happily rested, wooden stools sat at the front, and behind tending was a cheerful girl with long waves of white hair, her fringe clipped up and a plastic smiled glued onto her face.

"Welcome, to _Fairy Tail_." Scarf boy breathes down on me, as I turned to look him in the eye, the question of _where I was_ , _who he was_ and _what all this was about_ caught in my throat. "Of course, don't get too comfortable, since you're leaving soon enough."

"Excuse me?"

I brought my hand up to my chest, right in the middle, just above my breasts. My eyebrow shot up and I felt my other hand tighten into a fist.

"You're the delivery from Saber Tooth right?" He answered with a shrug, scratching the back of his neck. "It won't be long before Gray comes to pick you up and prices you."

"Price me?!"

"Yeah, don't you know how auctions work, lady?"

" _AUCTIONS_?!"

I was extremely livid, and confused. I had no idea what nonsense this ruffian was spouting at me. Talks of auctions, prices and sabers—what does all that even mean?! And he dare not explain anything?! Why this little—

"I don't know if your club told you anything, but we had a deal. They send us a person suited for the Everlue auction, and their last debt is paid off." He retorts and my jaw slackened as I stared at him with wide eyes. "So be a good girl lady and just follow my lead so I can take you to Gray."

"I will be taken nowhere!" I screeched at him, heart beating fast from what— _I don't know_ ; if I had to take a guess, it'd be frustration. "There is a big misunderstanding!"

"What?"

He stared dumbly at me, and I had to hold back a scream. I was so ready to sock him right there in that left eye that twitched in annoyance as he took a glance at me— _all_ of me.

"I'm not part of this Saber whatever club you're talking about. And I'm not the delivery you're looking for!"

" _What_?!" He flailed, arms up and waved with an incredulous look in his eyes. "But you took the bus!"

"Last I checked, that bus was en route to the stop right next to my apartment building, so of course I'd take it!"

"Are you crazy?! YOU DON'T JUST TAKE RANDOM BUSES AT TWO AM IN THE MORNING!"

"BUT THIS IS THE ONLY BUS THAT GOES AROUND MY STOP!"

"YOU SHOULD'VE DOUBLE CHECKED!"

Our screams left us heavily panting, our faces so close I could feel spicy breath harsh against the tip of my nose. He stared down at me with obsidian eyes that now revealed jaded shadows, but I refused to back down. No one seemed to pay attention to us, which I was highly thankful for. The last thing I needed were a bunch of hooligans looking over at us with prying mouths and whispering eyes.

"Listen here lady, that bus you took was an exclusive transport in between the different club territories, either you took the wrong bus, or you're part of an advocate from a gang below." I didn't understand what he meant by _club territories_ and _advocate from a gang below_ , so I just continued to stare up at him, fire in my brown eyes. "You sure you didn't get on the wrong bus?"

"Yes."

"Pft."

He almost spat at me – I felt a slight sloppy spray against my cheeks and I turned and backed away in disgust. Before I could even yell at him, he disappeared into the crowd, left me stranded in the middle of the god forsaken casino looking place with probably addicts and drunks hanging about. I shrieked and tried to catch up to him, towards the direction I thought he would head for. It was difficult to tell as a) I didn't know him at all so I wouldn't know what would be in his mind, b) the place was a mess and I wasn't familiar with it so that made for a difficult task of not running into walls, and c) there was trouble in every turn and every corner, whether it be alcoholic women with literal barrels of alcohol laughing by the slot machines or big burly men with scars on their faces that yelled about being "man".

Finally, I caught sight of the scarf boy, and as I shuffled my way to him, the other black haired boy—man, _whatever_ —he was talking to pointed a finger at me, and scarf boy turned and whistled as he locked eyes with mine.

"Blondie."

"Scarfie." I blurted, the first word that slid out of my mouth, and all he did was stare and raise that damn eyebrow as if he was some kind of amused. "What am I going to do?!"

"What are you talking about?" He yawned, his pinky finger in one ear as if cleaning it in a lazy manner. "Clearly you're not the person they sent, so you're no longer my responsibility. Get out of here."

I opened my mouth in protest, just before I realized exactly what he just said. The nerve!

"Excuse me?!"

"You like saying that a lot, don't you?"

"What do you mean I'm no longer your responsibility?!"

"It's exactly as I say."

"But you took me here!"

"That was before I realized you weren't the package."

"Package?!" My voice was shrill and I could tell neither of the two liked it as their eyes twitched simultaneously, though at that moment I could not care less. "Listen here you pastel colored jackass!"

"What'd you call m—"

"Shut up, I'm talking to you!" I yelled, hands flew everywhere in exasperation, causing scarf boy too step back with a troubled look and the other black haired punk to snicker. "You and your stupid assuming ass was the reason I ended up here, wherever the heck _here_ is, and you are taking me out of here and getting me onto _my_ bus because that's how it all started and that's the least a supposed gentleman like you could do to someone you have deeply inconvenienced!"

"She's got a point." The black haired punk said, and I heard scarf boy hiss as I silently sent him a death glare. "I mean Natsu, we still need someone for the auction."

"Fuck the auction."

"That's going to cost us at the least half a million!"

I stood back and watched the two of them send each other signals with their eyes. I suddenly felt like an outsider – not that I never was before because honestly, the whole gambling scene would never suit me to begin with. An intense conversation drew itself between them, and I shivered at the the ice cold and heat colliding with my skin.

"Okay, well do it."

Scarf boy spoke, a fire ignited in the jade of those obsidian eyes.

"We'll do what?"

I asked, although it seemed as if I had gone completely invisible as my question fell into deaf ears.

"Good, now go."

"GO WHERE?"

Before I knew it, I was gripped and dragged once again by scarf boy. It seemed to be a routine of that night. This time, he headed for a different exit from where we came in, and I shouted at him to let go, pulling myself from him the best I could. Of course he ignored me – he never did give me a chance to stand up for myself anyway. I tried to kick him, but for some reason, he knew exactly what I was thinking and swiftly dodged, which of almost left me to trip over the small curb, before we arrived at what seemed like a backdoor exit. He walked out and dragged me with him.

"Okay blondie, here's the deal."

"I have a name!"

"Whatever."

"My name is Lucy!"

I didn't know what possessed me to reveal my name to this miscreant but it was out now. It wasn't like I gave away my last name anyway – _that_ would've been trouble.

"Okay, Luigi—here's what we'll do."

"It's Lucy!"

"Lucy."

"I'm listening."

"I'll take you to the auction, Gray already priced you for about three thousand anyway."

"WHAT?!"

"I know, if it was me you'd probably be worth less than a hundred."

I could no longer tell if I was mad that he and his pal were making _my_ decisions _for me_ , or the fact that this man boy had the audacity to comment on my worth. If I wasn't so gobsmacked I would've punched him right then and there.

"The auction didn't really say we had to sell you off, all it said was to attend, bring someone suited for the job, price them, and then leave with our earnings. So really, you're just going to go there, look pretty, have people _think_ they're buying you off, and then we run before they could even claim you, got it?"

"What do I get at the end of all this?"

"A sweet ride home, and half the earnings. What do you say?"

He raised his hand up and beckoned for me to take it. And he grinned once again, one too fun, too young, I'd fall to pieces. We were at the back of that crazed casino, the mark of a fairy glowing neon pink hung right above us, flickering in the dim light of the moon. And there was a slow breeze that surrounded us, calm, careful and alluring. And with no hesitation, the wind brought my hand up for me to take his outstretched one, a gentle smile tugged at my pink lips.

"Okay."

And that was my once upon a time for the summer.

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't really have much to say except, I hope you like it, please leave a review if you did, and I hope I didn't make them too ooc. I'm still getting the feel of the Fairy Tail characters so sorry for any mistakes. Not beta'd.


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